Beasts Of The Southern Wild (Benh Zeitlin, 2012) - 5 stars

Beasts Of The Southern Wild is the debut feature for writer/director Benh Zeitlin, and a sure shot to stardom for both him and the two leads also in their debut roles. It is at once a realistic and magical story, that unfolds through the eyes of six-year-old Hushpuppy (the Oscar-nominated Quvenzhané Wallis) in the wake of the flooding of her isolated everglades society, and as her father’s (Dwight Henry) mysterious heart condition worsens. It is a beautiful tale of maturity and realisation that will have you laughing, crying and empathising more than you have in a long while.

The film is shot using handheld cameras, unconventional framing and jump cuts, suggesting a documentary feel to the film, yet we are still privy to the emotion of Hushpuppy, something that could easily be missing in such a style. The camera is often at her height, and the use of her as narrator helps us attain a connection, although it is simply Wallis’ performance that keeps us there with her for the duration, a stunning turn for the eight-year-old, the likes of which have not been seen for years.

The documentary style is intertwined with ambiguous visuals- are they Hushpuppy’s dreams or are they really happening? – including the icecaps melting, and prehistoric aurochs being unleashed and stampeding towards Hushpuppy’s bayou community. Then there is the narrative strand of Hushpuppy’s estranged mother. At all times faceless, we are never sure whether the woman Hushpuppy finds solace with is her or not. These magical vignettes are seamlessly placed in the film, giving the whole story a mystical edge, adding another layer to a film that may otherwise fall into the trap of being simply affecting and nothing else.

The use of the melting icecaps, and the fact that a storm nearly wipes out their tribe-like existence (an obvious nod to Katrina) may seem a little preachy at times, but no more so than Pixar’s environmental references, which hardly attract criticism.

What is worth noting is how apart from one mention of New Orleans, their island is fictional and there are no other temporal or spatial anchors. Therefore, their lifestyle is simultaneously regressive, almost caveman like and yet post-apocalyptic. The relationship between Wink and Hushpuppy is one of harsh love, with survival at the core- they are not idealists. There are no pretentions for them, and this comes across in the filmmaking too. Wink nearly always refers to Hushpuppy as ‘man’ and even suggests she will be ‘king’- with no maternal figure and unconventional society dynamics, everyone has developed (or regressed to) a hunter-gatherer instinct.  At age six, Hushpuppy has her own lodgings, cooks for herself, and when her father becomes to ill, she adventures and discovers by herself too. What seems like a terrible nightmare, is for some, a reality, a realisation that Zeitlin is attempting to get across to first-world audiences. The scenes in the hospital are not an attack at corporations and consumerism but a primitive hatred of the ‘different’ – infrastructure and modern medicines are the enemy.

This film teeters on the edge of being too serious, but ultimately falls on the right side of the levee, allowing us a sensitive, beautifully crafted look in at another world, another time of human existence that is current and historical, real and fantasy. 

Django Unchained (Quentin Tarantino, 2012) - 5 stars

Since his first interview as a director, Quentin Tarantino has made it no secret that he loves spaghetti westerns and will undoubtedly be making one at some point. Sure, all of his films have included a Mexican standoff, but it wasn’t until this year, when he released Django Unchained, that his no holds barred western was let loose on the world. The film follows Django (Jamie Foxx) as he is freed by Dr King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) and their mission to find Django’s wife Brunhilda (Kerry Washington) from the slave owning tyrant Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio in his first ever role as a villain).

The film wastes no time in getting stuck into hilariously witty dialogue, nor does it hesitate when it comes to bloodthirsty violence in it’s opening scene. It’s as if Tarantino has written Django knowing we’ve all seen his films before, we know what we’re here to see. And it works. At almost three hours, it needed no longer in the first act to establish anything, and it fits with the revenge theme that we, as an audience, want to get on with it as much as Django does. As the story develops, we are rewarded with beautiful cinematography, montages with some of Tarantino’s best uses of a soundtrack to date (including original tracks from Rick Ross and John Legend), and even some surprising guest appearances.

There is no doubt that this is Tarantino’s funniest film so far, yet also his most violent. Tarantino has suggested two types of violence are portrayed: the “cathartic”¹ killing Django does on his mother of all revenge missions, which, although extremely visual and gory, is often enjoyable and amusing to watch (a sign we are successfully tapping in to Django’s psyche) and in the red corner, the “Auschwitzian”¹ [sic] violence conducted and condoned by Calvin Candie. This, I imagine, has been the source of the negativity towards the film. However, it has been suggested by all involved, this is not Tarantino’s violence; what we see here really happened. I’m afraid, unfortunately, after such iconic violence as Nazi-scalping and Police having their ears removed, it seems like a case of the boy who cried wolf; that no one will now believe him when he is finally telling the truth.

The problem with Django is that it is so closely linked to Inglourious and not in the Tarantino-universe way that his films are usually linked. Our hero represents a victimised ethnic group wanting payback, but as the “1 in 10,000 n*****s” that has the guts to stand up against the tyrannous evil (and remember, Colonel Landa in Inglourious was originally written with DiCaprio in mind). So with help from Ennio Morricone, a spaghetti western-style mission of retribution is undertaken, with Django even pinching the essence of the so-cleverly written language changing in Inglourious’ opening scene.

As a stand alone film (and this is the basis on which I have awarded the film’s star rating) Django Unchained is excellent, Tarantino on top form as both a writer and director, but as an addition to Tarantino’s all important body of work, a notion that he holds so close, it is slightly disappointing to see the usual bearer of such extraordinarily original work deliver a somewhat disguised and re-worked item from his back catalogue.

¹ Both quotations taken from Tarantino’s Channel 4 interview (10/01/2013) Full interview can be viewed here: http://www.channel4.com/news/tarantino-uncut-when-quentin-met-krishnan-transcript

Les Misérables (Tom Hooper, 2012) - 5 stars

Les Misérables is nothing short of magnificent. Tom Hooper’s version of the world-famous stage show and novel stars Hugh Jackman as Jean Valjean, once a slave on the run, now a new man hoping his past, and the ruthless Javert (Russell Crowe) do not come back to haunt him, as he vows to raise Cosette (Amanda Seyfried) after her factory worker mother Fantine (Anne Hathaway) dies.

Hooper shows ambition with every decision he makes, the largest of which was to have the cast sing live on camera instead of dubbing afterwards in the studio. This decision made this a film that stands out like a spy among rebels, and Hooper and the cast’s conviction taking it through the film may have allowed them to create the finest film of the year.

Watching the film with the knowledge of the actors singing live just brings everything to life, as if you are really there. Forget 3D effects, Hugh Jackman’s ‘Who Am I?’ comes out of the screen more than Avatar (James Cameron, 2009) ever will. And when you know the singing is real, you have to question whether the blood, sweat and tears that go with each number are real too. Especially when certain members of the cast are shown in one long take without cutting away, you realise you are no longer in the cinema watching Hathaway playing Fantine, you are there on the streets of France watching Fantine herself. From her rendition of ‘I Dreamed A Dream,’ that will break even the hardest of hearts, to the hilarious ‘Master Of The House’ by Sasha Baron Cohen (in his best role for years) and Helena Bonham Carter, each number permeates the theatre with such raw emotion that we could well be seeing it performed live in front of us. Other sequences worth noting are Samantha Barks (who played Éponine in both the film and on stage) singing ‘On My Own’ and the exceptional performances by the young Daniel Huttlestone as Gavroche and Isabelle Allen as the young Cosette.

Danny Cohen’s cinematography is also due a mention. The camera does not simply show us the story, it participates. The camera is used as another instrument of the orchestra, it’s movement or lack thereof is so in tune with the musical numbers. At times menacingly low, or hauntingly high and often using Dutch angles, it shakily but fluidly moves around at street level, almost barging crowd members out of the way to get right in the faces of the key players. At other times, the use of cranes and steadicams allow us to sweep gracefully through courtyards and over roofs, looking down on the ‘desire and despair’ we have just been part of.

In all aspects, Les Misérables is Tom Hooper's masterpiece, a much more worthy contender for Best Picture than his previous offering, the wrongly awarded The Kings Speech (2010). The performances so real, the design so endlessly detailed, and the visuals and music are non-stop breath-taking. We do not watch or witness this story; we are invited by all involved to actively take part. However, in a story of such misery, it is unfortunately Hooper himself who will come out crowned as 'Le Misérable,' after being tragically omitted from the Best Director category in last week's Oscar nominations.

Gangster Squad (Ruben Fleischer, 2013) - 3 stars

Gangster squad is Ruben Fleischer’s follow-up to his 2009 debut Zombieland. Set in the late 1940s, it follows the rise and fall of gangster Mickey Cohen, and the group of soldiers-turned-cops-turned-soldiers who brought him down.

Anyone who saw Fleischer’s previous film would be expecting the same levels of visual stylization and gore from his latest offering. And they would be rewarded so. With more slow motion than a sports replay, and a man being torn in half barely sixty seconds in, the audience soon learns what they’re getting themselves into. It is a glossy, if not over simplified vignette of post-war Los Angeles, a fact that we are seemingly never allowed to forget. With almost every character at one point quipping ‘I thought the war was supposed to be over,’ the film does not hesitate in using the past of characters to egg them on in their turf war against Sean Penn’s aging boxer-turned-mob boss.

The ‘Gangster Squad’ (whose name is presented to us in one of the film’s more cheesy sequences) consists of all the stereotypical players: a veteran sharp shooter (Robert Patrick), the young eager sidekick with room for improvement (Michael Peña), the sensitive soul (Ryan Gosling) and, of course, the brains of the bunch (Giovanni Ribisi). Their outfit is fronted by Josh Brolin playing the hotheaded leader of the pack, whose sense of duty allows for the typical family threatening moments.

Clearly, the film is full of clichés. The bad guys almost seem like farcical henchmen straight from Who Framed Roger Rabbit (Robert Zemeckis, 1988) and Sean Penn’s Mickey Cohen, at times, seems like a shallow comic book villain, the likes of which we would expect to see fighting the Green Hornet, not a group of hardened LA cops. The plot points and twists are as predictable as possible, and if you still can’t follow it, the dialogue spoon feeds you exposition to the point of being bloated, but there is still something within the film that pulls you along. It is a hugely fun experience, even if it doesn’t tread new ground. The impressive ensemble, on the whole, keeps it afloat also. Penn and Brolin are on top form, with a great supporting cast, also including Nick Nolte and Anthony Mackie, but unfortunately some of the other key players flag slightly. As a Ryan Gosling fan, this is difficult to say, but it feels like just another easy role for him to slip into; the young emotional tough guy who is willing to do anything for the girl, and similarly for Emma Stone playing his lazily-written not-quite femme fatale Gracy.

The fundamental issue with the film is one we see too often in the current movie climate: It is not sure of its target demographic. On the one hand, it feels like another Dick Tracy screen adaptation, made for children and filled with amusing caricature bad guys and a simplistic story structure, but it then fills itself with f-bombs (and worse) and ultra-violence, really pushing the boundaries of its 15 certificate. The result is a hugely enjoyable but all too simple to watch, and ultimately confused, action movie. Movie detectives beware: do as Brolin tells you to. Leave your badge at home and simply allow the gloss and violence to wash over you.

The American (Anton Corbijn, 2010) - 3½ stars

The American is a well-devised slow boiling thriller that almost pays off but just misses out on being a glorious work of art.

Clooney’s title character, also known as Jack, Edward, Mr. Butterfly and, in Martin Booth’s source novel, referred to as a very private gentleman, is a lone assassin, having some down time in rural Italy after a job-scare in Sweden. It is a moody, well paced and balanced character piece, looking at a hit man coming to the end of his career, and committing two of the biggest assassin faux pas: falling in love and allowing somebody to find out your real identity.

Towards the end of the opening credits, the camera stays on Clooney for an extended period as he drives through a long tunnel, when we are finally blinded by the sun. This long take is used by director Anton Corbijn to tell us we are not watching a fast paced action film. This is not The Bourne Clooney. With beautifully framed, but static, shots, a scarce score and even scarcer dialogue, tension builds from the beginning, and keeps doing so until the end, allowing us to learn a depth to the character that we are often not privy to in such genre films.

However, this tension and depth can only be fully realised with a wholly rewarding ending, which unfortunately we are not given. While Clooney gets caught in bluffs and double crosses, the film gets caught in itself, and does not fully release the tension that has built for nearly two hours, leaving us walking away feeling slightly cheated. If the payoff had been better, we could accept the slowness right up to the end credits, but without such a result, it just feels sluggish by the fourth quarter, like we’ve seen it all before.

So, as the action thriller we are promised, or maybe just wishing for, it disappoints slightly, but as a character study and a career move for Clooney, it is spot on. For this is not Clooney as we know him. He is not cheekily in charge. He has not got all the angles. Writing this with two years hindsight, I can almost liken Clooney’s performance and the film’s overall knowing of what it wants to Nicholas Winding Refn’s 2011 offering Drive. Since The American, Clooney has taken a leap of faith, starring as broken and vulnerable in Alexander Payne’s The Descendants (2011) In The American, Clooney is not only serious, but he is stone-faced, abrasive and occasionally on the back foot.

As for Corbijn, he certainly knows how to orchestrate the elements of a film to create what he wants. Not for a long time have I seen a film’s components work in such unison to create character and story. He knows that fundamentally, directing means decision-making and you can see his implicit decisions everywhere you look. From the colour and costume to the openness of the sexual encounters, Corbijn has his signature all over the little things, suggesting none of this has happened by chance.

Overall, a tour de force for Clooney and Corbijn alike, but do not be fooled by the title. This is not another American spy film. It aims for, and for the most part achieves, something more, which makes it almost worth the work.